to inflict great amounts of pain on
small animals little children
- those masterminds who smeared that mysterious white secretion on my elevator buttons for the last two days (which i’ve no way to find out who they are unless I hide at the lift landing)
- incessantly chatty teenagers who think hunger games is a good movie
- my cellphone which has been slow and unresponsive, delaying my fast paced city life.
(In no chronological order which is why I used bullets instead of numbering. However, if I were to use numbering, those bastards behind the white secretion would get it first.)